Thank You
by tkijyahh
Summary: He's going on one last date with Blaine, and then everything is going to end. But when he looks at Blaine, Kurt realizes that it doesn't matter how much he wants to put a stop to his chaotic life - he can't let Blaine get hurt.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

**A/N: This was written based on a prompt on glee_angst_meme. Warnings for homophobic language, mentions of attempted suicide, mentions of self-harm and depression apply.**

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><p>The silence of the morning was shattered by the shrill ringing of the alarm clock. Under normal circumstances, Kurt would have shut it off, then proceed to take a long, refreshing bath and make sure that his attire was up to standards.<p>

But things haven't felt normal for a while now. Kurt didn't bother switching it off. This was it. He'd had enough. He didn't know why he felt so…empty.

Maybe it started three weeks ago, after that stupid argument he had with Mercedes when she confronted him about Blaine's attitude towards Sam, when she told Kurt to warn Blaine against being so insensitive towards Sam's situation.

To be honest, he did not approve of what Blaine said, but felt no need to step in and "tell Blaine to back off". Blaine knew that he was wrong, and between transferring schools, leaving his fellow Warblers behind, and being shoved to the bottom of the social pyramid, it seemed perfectly understandable for him to snap.

_But,_ Kurt reasoned, _she had the right to stand up for Sam._

Flipping himself around, Kurt planted his feet on the ground and got out of bed.

Today, he was going to make things right.

So many things had gone wrong so quickly. With the failed student presidential elections, NYADA now seemed out of reach. To make matters worse, he had been accused of cheating and _oh God _he could not bear to see the disappointment in his father's eyes again.

He just wanted this year to be magical, and yet, the only thing that seemed right was Blaine.

He had to make things okay. Pulling out three bottles of sleeping pills from his messenger bag, Kurt unlocked his mobile phone. He would apologize to Mercedes about their argument; he would tell Rachel to chase her dreams, he would tell her to show "the Gerber baby" what she was made of, that she's equally, if not more, talented and beautiful. Finally, he would write his dad a letter. He would apologise for leaving like this. He would apologise for his mistakes. He would apologise for leaving him like his mom did.

_But it's going to be okay. You've Carole and Finn by your side. _

It was eight o'clock in the morning. There was still 15 hours.

In 15 hours, Kurt Hummel was going to die.

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><p>Adjusting his collar, Kurt proceeded to run the brush through his hair. He was going on one last date with Blaine to see <em>The Colour Purple<em>. After that, they would kiss, and for a moment, things will seem normal again.

_Yeah, _Kurt mused, _and then they will find me dead._

There was a knock on the front door, and he set the brush down. There was no time to think about death. For now, all he was going to care about would be Blaine.

Making his way down the stairs, Kurt opened to door to reveal his blushing boyfriend.

"Blaine? Why are you-?"

"You gave me that bouquet of flowers, and I realised that I didn't give you anything in return. So…"

Blaine reached into the inner pocket of his coat, and pulled out a single white flower.

"It's a white Camellia and…it means 'you're adorable'."

Kurt froze, tears threatening to fall.

"Kurt?"

Throwing himself at Blaine with surprising force, Blaine stumbled a little, but managed to regain his balance.

Wrapping his arms around his lover's neck, Kurt repeated those three words over and over again.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

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><p>When the musical ended about four hours later, Kurt and Blaine made their way down to the parking lots, their fingers interlocking perfectly.<p>

"I mean, Celie is just…amazing. She managed to overcome her difficulties and she's _celebrating life_!"

Blaine had been gushing about the musical since it ended half an hour ago. It was, after all, one of his favourite musicals. When Blaine realised that the tickets were sold-out, he had that adorable pout on his face that immediately made Kurt decide that he simply _had _to get his hands on a pair of those tickets.

After three hours on the phone, and a long debate with Rachel (_"But I bought a pair of tickets for __**my**__ date with Finn!" "Rachel, he'll fall asleep three minutes into the opening number.")_, he'd finally managed to slip them into Blaine's locker the next morning.

Just as they reached the car, Kurt fumbled around for the white Camellia Blaine had given him. (Yes, he carried it around. He couldn't bear to leave it unattended.) After a minute, Kurt concluded, "I think I left it in the washroom we visited after the musical ended."

Blaine, still in an adrenaline high, was bouncing on his feet.

"Would you like me to get it for you? You can wait in the car."

Kurt gave Blaine a fond smile, "it's okay. I'll be back in a minute."

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><p>The familiar feeling of guilt began to bubble in Kurt's stomach as he walked through the now-silent corridors while heading for the washroom. It was similar to the feeling he had when he caught Burt's eye in the Principal's office, yet not quite the same.<p>

_Are you really prepared to leave him behind?_

_He's Blaine. He'll be fine. He'll move on and one day, just like the others, he'll forget about me._

Kurt knew that it was true. Blaine was, and will always be, amazing. He will have a hundred admirers following him around and he will have the warblers…Sebastian…

There was a noise. Instinctively, Kurt froze.

Silence returned, and Kurt then turned around to leave. Something felt terribly wrong; something told him to run, fast.

Cord-like fingers struck from nowhere, wrapping themselves around his neck, choking him, strangling him, and killing him.

"Well, hello there, lady."

Kurt tried to pry the fingers off, but the snake-like grip was too strong, and his fingers were slippery with cold sweat.

His head was slammed against the cement wall, and his breath was knocked out of him.

The fingers finally unwound themselves, but proceeded to grab a fistful of hair instead. As Kurt's head was violently jerked backwards, a blinding pain shot through the back of his neck.

_I'm going to die. He'll kill me. I'm going to die._

"I've seen boys like you; boys who wrap their asses in designer pants and parade their _gayness _around like a damn peacock."

Now his face was smashed onto the floor, and he felt a warm liquid dribble down his nose. _God _everything hurt and he just wanted it to _end._ It didn't matter. If he lived, he was going home to end it anyway, so why couldn't someone do him a favour and _kill him now._

"Kurt?"

Shit. He knew that voice. Even if everyone finally decides that they've had enough of him, even if everything he had was taken away, Kurt will always know that voice.

It was the voice of the man who told him to stand up for himself, the voice of the man who told him that their relationship was worth so much more than a lousy trophy, the voice of the man who told him that he loves him.

Kurt tried to open his mouth, tried to tell Blaine to leave. It was useless.

Another shadow jumped from the walls and threw Blaine onto the ground. There was a strangled cry, and Kurt felt a strong blow to his head. It was strange. He knew there was supposed to be pain but for some reason, he felt detached from his body, like his mind was hovering somewhere close, but not close enough.

There was no pain; only a strange darkness that began as a daunting grey mist which grew darker and darker until it finally consumed him.

_Am I dead?_

_I was hoping to finally have some control over my life; I was hoping to end it on my own free will._

_But still…it's finally over, right?_

_What about Blaine? Is he okay?_

It could have been seconds, minutes, or maybe even hours later, but something pulled him back. The lights were dim; there was a pounding in his head, and a coppery taste in his mouth. His entire body was sore and he was just about to close his eyes when a groan threw him back into reality with the force of a tidal wave.

_Blaine._

That sickening, red, warm and sticky fluid was smeared across half his face. His cloths were ripped and as Kurt's eyes wandered further down, he blanched. Blaine's torso was covered in cuts and bruises.

_How is he even breathing?_

It didn't matter how much he wanted to die. It didn't matter how much pain he was in. Blaine couldn't die; he had so much to live for.

Somehow, Kurt managed to reach for the phone in his pocket and dialled 911.

"911. What's your emergency?"

Blaine was going to be okay. He couldn't screw things up again. Blaine was the one thing in his life that had to remain perfect. He had to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters. Story line is based on a prompt from glee_angst_meme**

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><p>The stench of antiseptic was nauseating. It was much too clean, and the walls were too white. Dressed in a hospital gown, Kurt tugged at the sleeve with distaste.<p>

"Hey Kiddo."

Burt stepped into the room and lowered himself into the plastic chair. He reached out a hand, attempting to take Kurt's hand in his, but withdrew it and settled on rubbing his neck instead.

"How's Blaine?"

"He's alright. None of you were too badly injured."

Burt was still rubbing his neck frantically, making it turn alarmingly red.

"Dad, I'm fine."

The nervous rubbing stopped, and Burt's shoulders tensed.

"Dad?"

Without a word, Burt reached into the pocket of his faded jeans and pulled out a neatly-folded letter. Kurt's breath hitched. There, written in black ink, was the letter he left for his dad; the letter he left to be read after he swallowed those three bottles of pills, after he'd curled up beneath the covers, pretending to be asleep, until someone finally realises that Kurt Hummel ceased to exist.

"You can't tell Blaine."

"Kurt, what –"

"Just promise me that you won't tell him."

Burt just sat there, staring at Kurt with an odd expression of anguish and frustration.

"I don't…I don't get it. Is that it? Is that how you wanted to leave me, Kurt? You, Carole, Finn, Blaine and I make up a _family_. You were really going to just leave us like that?"

Had the situation been brighter, Kurt would have been elated to hear that his father had included Blaine as part of the family but for now, the guilt gnawed at his heart.

He wasn't feeling guilty because he wanted to end things; the guilt was killing him because despite the tears and disbelief in Burt's eyes, his mind still lingered on those three bottles that could have taken his life. Was he really prepared to die?

_Yes._

But did he regret calling for help?

_No. Blaine deserves to live._

A sob pulled Kurt out of his daze and he turned to see Burt staring at the ground, the letter clasped in his hand so tightly that his fist shook.

There was only one thing he could say, even though he was lying through his teeth.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I…I can never leave you. I…I didn't know what I was thinking."

Burt nodded and wiped his tears away with his sleeve before pulling Kurt into a gentle hug, afraid that he would inflict more pain on his son. Kurt pressed his cheek against his father's broad shoulder and felt the tears well up as Burt whispered in his ear, "I love you, Kid."

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><p>When he stepped into Blaine's room the next day (he wasn't allowed to leave the bed until then), he froze at the door.<p>

Blaine's face was black and blue, and the bandage covering his arms and forehead did nothing to reassure Kurt.

"Kurt! I swear that this looks worse than it really is."

Blaine was practically jumping on the bed when he caught sight of his boyfriend standing at the door. He had been sulking on bed earlier, irritated with the nurses for not allowing him to leave the room.

"_I just want to see Kurt."_

Kurt's shoulders relaxed a little as he gave a nervous chuckle. Despite everything, his goofball still managed to carry on smiling. Blaine carried himself like a preppy schoolboy in front of the others but in front of Kurt, it seemed like someone had smashed all his walls down.

"Blaine, I'm really sorry. If I hadn't been so careless you-"

"Hey, stop with the 'ifs'. Life's too short for regrets. I'll always come to you when you need help, you know that. You're gorgeous, Kurt, and I can't stand seeing you hurt."

The dam broke. All the tears he held back were now spilling over. His mind was a mess, and everything seemed _wrong._

He was loved by such amazing people, and yet he still longs for the silence that would come with death, still longs for the time when those slurs of "fag", "lady" and "princess" would just _shut up_ and stop hurting.

He didn't know what he was doing, but his feet led him over to Blaine, and his arms instinctively found their way around Blaine's neck.

A pair of strong, loving arms wrapped themselves around him, and Blaine began humming under his breath. There was no particular tune; it was just a song of comfort as he rocked Kurt back and forth gently.

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><p>The next few days were absolutely draining. If having to see Blaine hurt wasn't enough, Kurt had to spend hours recounting the tale of their assault. The night terrors had begun, and he would wake up bathed in cold sweat, cursing at the stupid walls that were separating Blaine's room from his.<p>

Eventually, it seemed like the police had finally gotten their heads together and managed to produce a clear image of the assailants that was caught on camera.

"They'll be put on trial, we're sure of it."

Everyone just gave a solemn nod. Well, everyone except Kurt. He sat at the edge of Blaine's bed, rubbing his wrist nervously.

He couldn't just kill himself now. After the entire ordeal, his dad's heart was too weak for another shock, and Blaine needed someone to be there for him.

Looking at the wrist which had been rubbed raw, Kurt brushed a finger over it. It burned, just a little, but enough for him to feel it. Everything clicked. He couldn't die just yet, but there were still things he could do to make up for all the trouble he was making his family go through, to make up for how useless he was.

Everything might have spun out of control, but he could still punish himself, couldn't he?

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><p>"Kurt, do you…"<p>

Kurt looked up from the latest issue of Vogue that he was reading while sitting crossed-legged on the floor (He was wearing some old, last-season jeans, so it didn't matter if they got a little dirty) and gazed up at Blaine who was looking down at him from the bed.

"Do I what?"

"Do you get scared sometimes?"

Kurt didn't know if it was the tremor in his voice, or the look of defeat in his eyes, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to wrap Blaine up in his comforter and get rid of all the demons that scared him in any way.

Closing the magazine and leaving it on the floor, Kurt turned to look at Blaine in the eye.

"Of course I do."

"How do you deal with it?"

Everything froze. Absentmindedly, Kurt's hand travelled to his chest. There was no way he could tell Blaine what he was really doing. How could he say that in order to prevent those ugly scars from being seen, Kurt had decided to draw those razors across his chest instead?

Suddenly aware that Blaine was still looking at him, Kurt let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

"I don't know. Maybe…maybe talking will help. We can help each other out."

Blaine gave him a meaningful look, eyebrows furrowing in concentration before he relaxed.

"I'd like that."

Kurt stretched his legs out and reached for Blaine's extended arms. With a gentle tug, Kurt was pulled onto the bed which sank a little to accommodate his weight.

Trying to make himself comfortable, Kurt leaned back against the pillows. As much as he wanted to curl himself up and lie against Blaine's chest, he was still worried about the injuries Blaine had suffered. The pillow that sunk around his head could never beat his lover's warmth, but nevertheless, they were cosy enough.

Blaine turned to look at him and slowly lowered himself to lie at Kurt's side. Only their knees were touching, nothing else, but it still felt so _intimate._

"I'm scared, Kurt. I'm scared that one day I'll lose you to those…haters. I'm scared that I'll be too weak to protect you."

Kurt ran a hand through Blaine's curls. He hadn't bothered gelling it down for a while now, and Kurt loved to touch them.

"You're not weak, Blaine Anderson. You're so strong; don't you ever think otherwise."

"But what if I lose you?"

Kurt's hand stilled as he let out a shaky breath.

"Kurt?"

Letting their eyes meet, Kurt reached out to brush Blaine's healing cheek.

"Then don't ever blame yourself, because nothing could have been done."

Blaine pushed himself up and leaned over Kurt, his voice so soft and tender that Kurt could barely make out what he was saying.

"I don't want to lose you, ever."

Blaine's warm breath ghosted over Kurt's lips, and Kurt gently tugged at the collar of Blaine's shirt to pull him closer.

Brushing their lips together, Blaine rolled his tongue over Kurt's lower lip, and then nibbled on it gently. With a breathy moan, Kurt opened his mouth slightly, granting Blaine's tongue access. He could taste him. The gentle fragrance of chamomile and honey lingered on Kurt's tongue as Blaine brushed over it with his own, his cheeks suddenly a thousand times more sensitive as Blaine reached out to touch them.

The kiss was slow, but no less passionate.

When they broke apart, Blaine simply reached out and traced a finger over Kurt's chin.

"I love you."

Kurt must've heard those three words a hundred times, but each felt the same as the first.

"I love you too."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for taking the time to read this. And also a big thank you to colfermentalhead for leaving a really nice review =D I'll definitely finish this story with updates either daily or every 2 days. It should be 4 chapters long. This is my first fanfic, so if you have any advice for improvement, do feel free to leave a review, PM, or drop me a message via Tumblr or Livejournal under the same name, tkijyahh.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Fox**

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><p>He was standing at the sink, his hands trembling as he ran the razor under the tap to wash the blood away. Something was wrong. It wasn't enough anymore.<p>

For a couple of weeks, the red tracks those blades left on his skin were enough to soothe the pain, to remind him that he was being punished for his sins, to let him know that he was still _capable of feeling pain_.

He just made another seven cuts, but he needed something more. His chest was now home to fifty lines, some deeper than the others, some close to healing, others with a little blood and pus, but he was still _alive._

Honestly, Kurt had no idea why he felt so desperate, or why he felt sad at all.

_I have an amazing family and a wonderful boyfriend, so why?_

There were no answers, and there was no one he could turn to.

For the first time in two and a half months, Kurt removed one of the three bottles he had been hiding in one of the compartments from under the sink.

Fate loved to play games, and frequently interrupted people's plans. The phone in his pocket started vibrating, startling Kurt and causing him to drop the bottle.

He stared at the fallen bottle for a moment as it rocked back and forth before coming to a complete stop.

His phone was still buzzing, and Kurt finally pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

_**Mercedes**_

"_**White Boy, you up for a little lady chat today?"**_

"Mercedes, it's…"

"_**Kurt? What's wrong?"**_

"Nothing. Where do you want to meet?"

"_**Rachel and I will see you at your house in an hour."**_

"That's fine. And girl, your timing sucks."

"_**Did I interrupt some kind of make-out session? 'Cause if I did, I'm sorry, but I think you've gotten enough action."**_

"Oh, you wish."

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><p>Kurt was alone at home when Rachel and Mercedes arrived. Burt and Carole were called for work even though it was a Saturday, and Finn had gone over to Puck's place.<p>

When the doorbell rang, Kurt placed the brush down on the vanity and lifted his shirt to look at the cuts.

_Stop it. The girls are here. They can't figure anything out. __**No one**__ can ever find out about this._

The doorbell rang again, and Kurt slowly made his way down the stairs from his bedroom that was on the second floor. This was it.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the horrendous sight of a hideous purple knitted cardigan with a green pig embroidered in the middle.

"Rachel, what in the world-"

"I told you, Rachel. I told you that this would not be a good way to greet our boy. You've probably blinded him in addition to those bruises he has. Speaking of which, how are you Kurt?"

Mercedes stuck her head out from behind Rachel, side-eyeing whatever Rachel was wearing with disgust.

"Mercedes, one day you will learn to appreciate my love for animal sweaters. If you would give them a chance they'll grow on you and-"

"White boy, time to let us in before Berry decides to 'educate' us until day break."

Kurt stepped aside, allowing his closest girlfriends in.

Rachel placed a Tupperware box on the dining table and turned around to fix that ugly purple _thing_.

"Well, Kurt. I've de-"

"Excuse me?" Mercedes cut in.

"I'm sorry. Mercedes and I have decided to bake you a batch of 'get well' cookies. There are quite a few extras, so you can give some to Blaine as well."

Kurt nodded stiffly, not really knowing what to say. He had returned to school, but mostly stuck close to Blaine; the corridors still scared him.

"Thank you. Just…sit. I'll get us some drinks in…something that is not a plastic cup."

He hurried into the kitchen, randomly taking three ceramic mugs out and placing the coffee bag in the coffee brewer. Closing his eyes, he sighed. Since when did talking to his best friends become so _tiring_?

When the coffee was finally done, Kurt opened his eyes and placed the mugs on a tray. Grabbing the box of cookies on the way out, he carefully made his way over to his girlfriends who were seated in front of the television set.

The television screen was blank, and when Kurt reached over for the remote, Rachel placed her hand over his.

"No, no. Don't you remember? We're here for our lady-chat."

Kurt withdrew his hand and leaned back against the couch, sighing "I was under the impression that these lady-chats normally took place in my bedroom."

Mercedes gave his knee a gentle squeeze before standing up, holding her mug and taking the box of cookies as she made her way up the stairs. Rachel gave him a look he couldn't explain before taking her mug as well.

"Kurt? Is this…alright with you?"

Kurt looked at the stairway for a moment before returning her gaze. Standing up, he straightened himself.

"Yeah, it's alright."

Rachel nodded and reached out to take his mug in her hands, ignoring the puzzled expression on his face. Walking over to the stairs, she waited for a moment for Kurt to catch up with her. Both of them were silent for a moment, and if Santana was here she would probably say something along the line of _"someone chewed on your pea coat, Hummel?"_ but the silence was not uncomfortable.

The door to his bedroom was open, and Mercedes had plopped herself down on his bed. Kurt pressed a hand over his eyes before letting it slide down his face. This was going to be a lot more difficult than he had anticipated. Hiding himself from the Glee club was one thing, but hiding from Mercedes _and_ Rachel was practically asking him to solve the Beale Ciphers: Close to impossible.

"Come on, Kurt. We just wanted to talk. You know I'm not angry about the issue between Sam and Blaine anymore. I mean, I could have been more understanding towards Blaine's situation; both of us made mistakes," Mercedes gave a subtle plea as she patted the space beside her.

Sensing his vacillation, Rachel carefully looped an arm around his (she was still holding a mug in each hand) and led him to his bed.

Kurt leaned back against the headrest while Rachel and Mercedes snuggled at his side.

"How are you?" Rachel whispered, as if hesitant to break the silence.

"Everything is fine. Blaine has gotten a lot better. I mean, he may still be a little jumpy and have occasional nightmares, but I don't think he's afraid of-"

"White boy, how are _you_?"

Kurt paused, not really knowing what to say. How _is_ he? Sure, he was a little scared of crowds and empty corridors, and would sometimes be plagued by dreams where he was too late to save Blaine, where he flashbacked to the night he saw his bleeding boyfriend slumped against the wall, but there was nothing unusual about that.

_Yeah, but you still want to die._

He looked down at the two girls beside him and saw it bright as day: The fear that haunted them despite their efforts to hide it, despite their efforts to appear strong.

_Come on, just tell them._

_I can't._

"I'm okay. As long as Blaine is fine, I'm okay."

"Kurt…" Rachel trailed off. She wanted to press for more answers, but was terrified of scaring Kurt away.

"What about the assailants?"

Kurt gave Mercedes a grateful look and she returned it with an odd smile. Their friendship may have changed a little over the past few months, and to some the distance between them may appear wider than it used to be, but they still shared a special bond.

"They're on trial. There were no witnesses so it's going to take some time, but the security cameras took pretty clear images of their faces; there's nothing much to worry about."

Mercedes nodded and reached over to take a cookie. As she bit into one, her face scrunched up in disgust.

"Rachel, these are disgusting."

"Hey! It could be the batch of cookies _you_ baked!"

"I swear that if I find any crumbs on my Laura Ashley bed linen, things will get ugly."

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><p><strong>I would like to give a BIG thank you to colfermentalhead and suchagleekx for the reviews! This fic. will be four chapters long. If anyone is wondering why it's so short, it's because this is my very first fanfic and I wanted to see if anyone would like me to change my writing style and stuff or make any improvements. So yeah, if you have any tips do drop me a review, PM or message on Tumblr or Livejournal (same username). I'm currently working on a much longer fic. <strong>

**Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Fox.**

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><p>"Hey you."<p>

Kurt looked up and saw Blaine holding himself up with one hand pressed against the locker.

"Well, aren't you a sight for the sore eyes?"

Both of them looked at each other and smiled for a moment before Kurt turned away and chuckled.

"So, are you going to start serenading to me at the stairs?"

"I wasn't serenading to you. I was trying to ease my way into the New Directions, remember?"

Kurt gave him the look. It was the I-don't-believe-a-word-you-say look and Blaine finally admitted, "Okay, maybe I was. But that was completely unintentional. I couldn't ignore the way you were looking at me throughout the entire performance."

Kurt folded his arms and leaned against his locker and raised an eyebrow.

Blaine straightened himself and gulped, playing with the corner of his lapel.

"It has been a little more than three months."

Kurt stilled. _Oh God._

"You know…since we last got a little more _intimate_."

Kurt exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding.

"Blaine, I was worried that we…you…might not feel comfortable after that…assault."

There was a moment of silence, but Kurt could see the gears in Blaine's head turn as he tried to come up with something to say.

Blaine finally stuttered, "I think…I think I'm ready. I mean…if you're comfortable with it as well."

He could see it. Kurt could see the look of absolute _love_ and _adoration_ in Blaine's eyes, and he completely forgot about the scars that now extended throughout his torso. After the attack, most of the student body stayed away from Kurt and Blaine, afraid to face the wrath of Burt Hummel and the rest of the Glee club if they did anything to hurt them, so Kurt raised a hand and touched Blaine's face before joining their lips.

When they broke apart, Blaine wound his arms around Kurt's neck and brushed their cheeks together.

No words were needed. Blaine had gotten his answer.

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><p>Kurt found himself at Blaine's place after school. Mr and Mrs Anderson weren't home again ("They should be coming back the day after tomorrow"), so the house was theirs.<p>

Kurt had insisted on hopping into the shower first (alone) because he felt "sticky and disgusting". He was soon standing in the showers, unbuttoning his shirt.

When he reached the third button, he stopped.

He spent the day in a state of such euphoria that he completely forgot about the things he had been doing to help him deal with whatever he needed to deal with (At this point, he no longer knew what had gone wrong).

There were a hundred tracks representing a hundred times when he felt _revolting, stupid, desperate, _and_ hopeless._

His hands were trembling as he struggled to button his shirt. He couldn't do this, he simply couldn't.

_Blaine will hate me. He'll hate me. I should be dead. What am I doing here? I messed up. I can't mess him up._

He opened the bathroom door, moving upstairs to the bedroom with a strange sluggishness where Blaine was waiting nervously.

When he saw Kurt's tear-stained face, Blaine shot up immediately. Taking the shaking boy in his arms, Blaine lowered them onto the wooden floor.

"Hush…it's okay…Kurt…it's okay…"

Blaine repeated this like a mantra while rubbing his boyfriend's back in an attempt to soothe him.

When Kurt finally pulled away and dried his face, Blaine looked absolutely devastated.

"Blaine?"

"Kurt, I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea that you were not ready. I'm sorry. I assumed that you would be fine. I'm sorry I didn't notice how badly it affected you. I'm sorry that I've been so selfish. I'm just…I'm sorry."

_I messed up again. I hurt him. I hurt Blaine._

Standing up abruptly, Kurt grabbed his messenger bag.

"Kurt?"

Giving Blaine one last look, Kurt shook his head and pleaded, "Blaine, please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. It was never your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

He rushed out the door and threw the car door open before slamming it close after he slid into the driver's seat.

This was it. He messed everything up. He had ruined everything with the one person who managed to remain perfect despite all the chaos.

_I hurt him._

With tears blurring his vision and shaky breaths, Kurt pulled away from the driveway.

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><p>Upon reaching home, Kurt ascended the stairs and kicked his shoes off at his bedroom door. He did not bother to arrange them neatly and left one lying on its side.<p>

After locking the door behind him, Kurt buried himself under the covers. Tears just kept spilling out, and he struggled to breathe.

_Why am I crying? Where are these tears coming from?_

Kurt could hear the phone ringing from his bag that he had thrown on the floor, but all the strength had left his limbs. The phone could keep ringing for all he cared; he wasn't going to answer it.

_Come on. Get up and go to the bathroom. Everything ends there._

Kurt knew that he should act quickly; there was less than two hours before the others returned. He could pretend to be taking a long bath, so there was about two hours and forty-five minutes left for the pills to work, for the pills to kill him.

But he was exhausted. Even the thought of finally getting some order in his life could not make him lift his heavy body up and make its way to the bathroom opposite the stairs.

He closed his eyes, listening to the incessant ringing of their recording of _Perfect_ coming from the phone. It was oddly soothing. Maybe he could get some peace tonight.

Kurt drifted in a haze for a while before the pounding of the door broke him out of his reverie.

"Kurt? Kurt?" The unmistakable voice of Burt Hummel was muffled by the wooden door.

Stealing a glance at the clock, Kurt realised that it was only five. It was much too early for his dad to be home. Grabbing the pillow, Kurt pressed it over his head as he laid face-down on the bed, trying to block out the noise.

"If you don't open the door right now, I'm banging it down! Kurt? Can you hear me?"

Opening his eyes with extreme reluctance, Kurt bit back a groan. Why couldn't his father understand that he was _tired_?

"I'm coming!"

The pounding at the door, his father's anxious cries and the ringing of the phone were giving him a headache. Pushing himself off the bed, Kurt stumbled across the room.

As soon as he opened it, Burt grabbed his face and tilted it from side to side, inspecting every inch carefully.

"What are you-?"

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Burt finally let go off his face and was glaring at Kurt, trying to slow his hammering heart by taking deep breaths. Kurt was stunned. It had been ages since his dad last yelled at him. Taking a step back, Kurt began to move away; Burt was scaring him.

"Kurt…I…" Rubbing his eyes, Burt sighed as a wave of despair washed over him. The last thing he wanted was for his _son_ to fear him.

"Look, Buddy. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that…The night I received the phone call from the hospital telling me that my son and his boyfriend were beaten up is still fresh in my mind, and then Blaine called to say that you suddenly took off. You've…You've got to stop scaring me, Kid."

There it was again. It was the tone of defeat that Kurt now heard so frequently. He disappointed _everybody_.

"I'm sorry. Dad, I'm really sorry."

"Son, I'm not blaming you, but you have to understand that I can't keep doing this. I can't live in constant fear of losing you. I mean, after finding the letter telling me that you were prepared to…to leave everything behind, I-"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kurt's eyes widened and his head snapped towards the door.

Blaine was standing there, breathing deeply as beads of sweat began making their way down his temple.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

No one said a word, but no words were required. It was obvious.

"You…You wanted to _die_?"

Kurt said that three lettered word so often, but somehow, when it came from Blaine's mouth, it _killed _him.

* * *

><p>The three of them were seated on the couch in stifling silence. It made Kurt remember that night those fingers tried to squeeze the life out of him by wrapping themselves around his neck, and he was about to be sick.<p>

"Why?"

Kurt lifted his head to look at Blaine whose beautiful hazel eyes that should always be filled with warmth and happiness were now glistening with unshed tears.

_And I'm the cause of it._

It was such a simple and innocent question. Why did Kurt feel such a need to end everything? He thought for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. There was none.

"I don't know. I don't think I wanted to _die_; I just didn't see the point of _living_."

He saw his father and boyfriend exchange a look, but couldn't bring himself to care. Silence descended once more before Burt finally said "I think we should seek professional help."

As much as he hated it, Kurt knew that his dad was right. Things were going out of control.

_What are you talking about? You've lost control over everything ages ago._

* * *

><p>The screen on his phone lit up, breaking through the darkness that engulfed the room.<p>

_**BA: Kurt? Do you want to talk?**_

Kurt read the message twice before locking it without giving a reply. He had just returned from his second visit to the counsellor, and hasn't spoken to anyone since. He knew that everyone was worried about him, and while Kurt did feel bad about it, he wanted to be left alone.

Yet now, lying in the darkness, it began to feel a little lonely.

Unlocking his phone, he replied:

_Yeah, alright._

The phone began buzzing and _**Blaine Warbler**_ appeared on the screen. Pressing the green 'answer' button, Kurt brought it to his ear. Almost immediately, he was greeted by Blaine's warm voice; the voice that he did not realise just how much he was missing.

"_**Kurt? What are you doing now?"**_

Smiling at the ceiling, Kurt felt his heart melt at his boyfriend's thoughtfulness. He did not want to start a conversation by answering the generic 'how did it go?'

"I'm just lying on bed while staring at the ceiling."

"_**Strange. I'm doing the exact same thing. But I'm also thinking."**_

"You can't just leave me hanging there, Anderson."

"_**You're using my last name now, huh? I'm just thinking about you."**_

Heat crept into Kurt's cheeks. It was not the first time they've had a late night conversation; they've been talking into the early hours of the morning six times a week since they started going out back at Dalton, yet Blaine still made the butterflies in Kurt's stomach flutter.

"And you said that you were terrible at romance."

"_**I still am. I'm just saying anything that crosses my mind."**_

There was a pause as both of them lay in silence, listening to each other's even breathing over the phone.

"_**Okay. I have to ask. What did she say? Do you want me to accompany you for the next visit?"**_

"Not much. It started off with the usual question of 'how are you feeling today?' We talked a little…prescribed me antidepressants and told me to look at different options for the future. Then Dad came home and he went through a whole list of colleges in New York in Finn's bedroom. You should have seen him. He was completely hopeless when he tried to get more information from the internet."

Blaine laughed, _**"He's an amazing father."**_

"I know. I'm…really lucky to have him. I'm really lucky to have all of you."

"_**Did you look for colleges that focused on fashion as well? I remember how you tried to modify the blazer."**_

"Honey, the Dalton blazer makes everyone look like carbon copies of each other. We did that yesterday. We were looking at Parsons. Apparently, Marc Jacobs is a Parson's graduate. But there's also FIT and many more."

Kurt paused. They were right. While he knew that NYADA was not the only college in New York, he'd never considered other options, and now it seemed like there were so many to choose from. NYADA would be his first choice, but even if his application is unsuccessful, there're still many paths to take.

"_**The three of us can spend the weekend looking through other alternatives. You'll do well in whatever college you study in."**_

"I know. I'm fabulous, remember?"

There it was again: That laughter that was so distinctively _Blaine. _How long has it been since they teased each other like that? How long has it been since they sat together and had a good laugh?

"_**Kurt? I…I know that you're…ashamed of the scars on your chest, but there's nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful and you always will be. Those scars are part of you, Kurt, a part of the struggles you've been through, and a part of the difficulties in life you'll triumph over."**_

"Blaine…I…Thank you."

"_**I love you."**_

"I know. I love you too."

"_**Kurt?"**_

"Hmm?"

"_**Everything will be okay. It has to be, because you and I will make it together."**_

Kurt drew a sharp breath as tears pricked his eyes. Honestly, he felt hopeless when he tried to face everything alone. But maybe, just maybe, with Blaine by his side, things might actually get better. It may never be perfect, but things could be _better_.

"Blaine?"

"_**I'm listening."**_

"Thank you. I…I really, really love you."

_Thank you for picking me up when I fell._

_Thank you for holding me._

"_**You're amazing Kurt, never belief otherwise."**_

_Thank you for taking my breath away._

* * *

><p><strong>Warning: Long AN**

First off, thank you so much for reading and to miss jayne76, It'sNotUnusual, suchagleekx and colfermentalhead for reviewing!

To It'sNotUnusual: Thank you! I am writing another ff now and it's longer than this. Hopefully much longer (I felt that this was a little short). And I'm sorry about the grammatical errors XD Thanks for being so understanding. (As a side note, I'm reading your ff Klexting and it's adorable. I look forward to future updates!)

Here's the prompt from GAM (it's long):

_He's going to go on one last date with Blaine to see his favorite musical. They're going to kiss, and it's going to be lovely. He's going to text Mercedes apologizing for their argument, text Rachel and tell her to go for her dream, write his dad a note, apologizing for leaving like his mom did; then, he's going to die._

_He doesn't expect to be assaulted outside of the theatre, beaten and left for dead. At first, he thinks it'll all work out. He gets his wish. But he looks at Blaine and sees that he's so much worse, and it doesn't matter how much he wants to die - he can't let Blaine get hurt._

_They live. The assailants are on trial. Kurt will never regret what he did that night, but he still wants to die. Blaine finds out after the entire ordeal is over, though, and makes sure that Kurt will never, ever feel like that again._

_Bonus for self-harmer Kurt._

I didn't post it earlier because it basically outlines the entire story. I'm sorry for not elaborating on Kurt's therapy. I wanted to highlight the fact that Blaine was the main factor for Kurt's recovery but now that I read it, it appears a little rushed towards the end. I'll try to do a better job in future ffs.

Once again, thank you! Sorry for the long A/N.


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